The Camp Fire Girls at Camp Keewaydin eBook

“It used to have that effect upon us at first,
too,” replied Miss Judy. “We would
all come racing down here with our hearts in our mouths,
expecting we knew not what. It took a long time
before we could believe it was a delusion.

“And now, come back to bed, or you’ll
be taking cold, standing out here in your nightgown.”

Still looking back at the river and half expecting
to see some agitation in its surface, Sahwah followed
Miss Judy back to Gitchee-Gummee and returned to bed.

CHAPTER IV

THE ALLEY INITIATION

Folk-dancing hour had just drawn to a close, and the
long bugle for swimming sounded through camp.
The sets of eight which had been drawn up on the tennis
court in the formation of “If All the World Were
Paper,” broke and scattered as before a whirlwind
as the girls raced for their tents to get into bathing
suits. Sahwah, as might be expected, was first
down on the dock, but close at her heels was another
girl whom she recognized as living in one of the Avenue
tents. This girl, while broader and heavier than
Sahwah, moved with the same easy grace that characterized
Sahwah’s movements, and like Sahwah, she seemed
consumed with impatience to get into the water.

“Oh, I wish Miss Armstrong would hurry, hurry,
hurry!” she exclaimed, jigging up and down on
the dock. “I just can’t wait until
I get in.”

“Neither can I,” replied Sahwah, scanning
the path down the hillside for a sight of the swimming
director.

“Do you live in the Avenue or the Alley?”
asked the girl beside her.

“In the Alley,” replied Sahwah.

“Which tent?”

“Gitchee-Gummee. Which one are you in?”

“Jabberwocky.”

“That’s way up near the bungalow, isn’t
it?”

“Yes, where are you?”

“The very last tent in the Alley, that one there,
buried in the trees.”

“Oh, how lovely! You’re right near
the path to the river, aren’t you? I wish
I were a little nearer this end. It would save
time getting to the water.”

“But you’re so near the bungalow that
you only have to go a step when the breakfast bugle
blows. You have the advantage there,” replied
Sahwah. “We down in Gitchee-Gummee have
to run for all we’re worth to get there before
you’re all assembled. We have hard work
getting dressed in time. We put on our ties while
we’re running down the path, as it is.”

The other girl laughed, showing a row of very white,
even teeth. “Did you see that girl who
came running into the dining-room this morning with
her middy halfway over her head?”

Sahwah laughed, too, at the recollection. “That
was Bengal Virden, the one they call the Elephant’s
Child,” she replied. “She lives in
Ponemah, with some friends of mine. She had loitered
with her dressing and didn’t have her middy
on when the breakfast bugle blew, so she decided to
put it on en route. But while she was pulling
it on over her head she got stuck fast in it with
her arms straight up in the air and had to come in
that way and get somebody to pull her through.
I never saw anything so funny,” she finished.